


I hate you more than anything.

by FairySoul



Category: ANSATSU KYOUSHITSU, Assassination Classroom
Genre: Akabane Karma is a Little Shit, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, KARUNAGI, M/M, Nagisa Shiota is sick of this shit, No happy end, Oneshot, author is sick of the shit, im not fixing this, karmagisa - Freeform, mega angst, this ones for the fujos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:16:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairySoul/pseuds/FairySoul
Summary: A oneshot.
Relationships: Akabane Karma/Shiota Nagisa
Comments: 21
Kudos: 141





	I hate you more than anything.

Nagisa had had enough.

It was the day after the culture festival, something that will go down as a fond memory for most. This memory is one that haunts Nagisa however.

Skirts, dresses, pretending to be a girl.

It eats away at him, painfully gnawing at every last inch of his being until there's nothing left.

Somewhere in his heart, he had been so delusional, so naive, to believe that maybe, just maybe, his class would stop making these jokes about his looks and making him do these things. He had been so wrong.

When Nakamura apologized, it felt like there was hope for those two. He had grown to dislike her through all her teasing, with her even saying that assaulting him in this way was her 'hobby'. She apologized knowing how much it all hurt, and Nagisa had been ready to turn over a new leaf.

This lasted for about ten seconds, until Yuuji approached the school, flailing his big hands and wearing his creepy smile.

Just like that, that apology, that 'new leaf' crumbled on the floor, as Rio Nakamura stripped him down and put her skirt on him. Like it was nothing. Like it was just the same old stuff. Like it didn't matter.

Nagisa was mortified. Here, in front of all these people, he's once again being forced to be something he isn't. Cause it's a gag. Cause it's a joke. Cause it's "our thing". He remembers the feeling of his stomach churning as Nakamura laughed and said "this is the last time I promise!!"

The last time.

How many times has it been?

He was starting to lose count of all these antics he'd been put through, the times he's looked in the mirror and looked away out of fear.

Karma and Nakamura had been teasing it about him all day. Even when he worked up the courage to tell Yuuji the truth, even when he owned who he really was.

After that, Karma and Nakamura jumped him behind some bushes and started stripping him down to try and put him in a maid outfit Karma had brought.

Yuuji was gone, there's no point to any of this. It was just cause. It was just for fun. Just cause they could. He had already lost all faith in Nakamura, but somewhere he had thought that maybe Karma would've stopped this. Maybe they could've had an actual conversation about this, about the way it hurts.

Because it does hurt. It hurts so much. More than anything. For years he's looked this way. For years people have treated him as a girl by mistake. And here in E-Class, it started happening on purpose.

He tries to ignore it as much as he can. He swallowed every last bit of pride he had left on the island to try and help his friends, even if ultimately his sacrifice was useless.

"Comic relief" Karma had said.

Of course. Cause it's hilarious. He laughs himself to sleep every night thinking about how in women's clothing, no makeup or wigs involved, he immediately passes as a girl. Comical.

Nagisa had had enough that day. The skirt in order to bring money in for the stand? Fine. For the greater good. Sure. But the maid outfit? For jokes? Giggles? Just because we can? Just because it's funny? He had squirmed and tossed around while pinned down, he felt blood rushing to his head and he was getting dizzy.

I can't cry, he had thought. I can't cry because that's something a girl would do. I can't cry cause that's not manly. If I cry they win.

He had done everything to keep himself from tearing up, but he was getting even dizzier and his vision was going blurry. He couldn't understand what was happening to him, but he knew he had to get out of the situation. He forced whatever power he had to push Nakamura off of him, and when Karma grabbed his wrist he tore his arm away.

He was running as fast as he could, back to the school building. When he turned his head he saw them chasing after him. Chasing him.

"You won't get away that easily!!" They cooed. The same smug evil looks on their faces as before.

His jacket has been mostly buttoned down in the chill November air, and he was still in a skirt. When he ran into the E-Class building, both Sugino and Kayano were the first ones he saw. They were counting profits in the office when Nagisa stormed in and locked the door behind him.

They seemed confused, until they noticed the state of his clothes. Nagisa turned to them awkwardly, wondering how long it was going to take them to laugh at him. The laughter never came.

Sugino was the first one up on his feet, walking over to him, while Kayano was standing with a worried expression. Of course, they were concerned. They knew about his past, everyone knew. Everyone knew he had been sent out to get money from Yuuji, but had disappeared after the boy had left.

"Do you wanna switch?" Sugino asked, no mocking tone, no jokes, and not even a hint of embarrassment.

"Please." Nagisa had asked.

Sugino, to Kayano's horror, immediately took off his pants as Nagisa took off the horrible skirt. She ran to the window to draw the blinds and was hunched down on the floor covering her face.

"Kayano, the coast is clear now!" Nagisa called, the green-haired girl slowly turning around, to be met by Nagisa in a pair of pants way too big for him, and Sugino in a skirt.

She couldn't contain herself.

It started as a giggle, but it morphed into full-grown laughter within a few seconds.

"Sugino... y-you look so stupid... when Yukiko sees this..." she has stumbled between her laughs, the sight of Sugino in a skirt that reached his thighs, paired with just how hairy and muscular the sporty boy's legs were were just too much for her to handle.

Nagisa had thought it was a bit amusing, but he had been more preoccupied with cuffing this giant pair of pants he found himself in.

Kanzaki called for Sugino from outside, something about the register. Without a second thought, he stormed out and walked over to her.

Nagisa was still in the office with a recovering Kayano, when they heard the explosive laughter from outside. The guys were all laughing at Sugino, some of the girls called him a pervert while the others just giggled along.

Karma and Nakamura had joined the group, laughing along and taking pictures. It was funny, wasn't it?

It wasn't until he was on his way home that he realized why Sugino could wear the skirt out as a joke and not feel the way Nagisa had.

It's because even in women's clothing, Sugino still looks like a boy. He has short hair, wears sweatbands on his wrists, he has long muscular legs.

Sugino could wear whatever he wants, and he could still be 'Sugino the boy'. That's a privilege Nagisa doesn't have, with his small stature and long hair, he's been confused for a girl more than he has been recognized as a boy.

When Kayano taught him this hairstyle, he thought that maybe things were looking up for him. He always wore extra hair-ties, just in case one of them broke. Anything to keep his hair from being loose.

Even still, when approached for directions by a stranger, when being rung up by a cashier, it still haunts him. "Young lady—" they'd say. It made him sick.

When he got home that night, he went straight to bed without eating anything. He had felt too sick to eat.

The next day of the cultural festival, it was packed. Yuuji has spread the word of their stand, business was booming, and so many customers had come to visit that they ran out of supplies halfway through the day.

Nagisa had become quieter and quieter around his classmates, he had started keeping to himself.

But Karma and Nakamura? He refused to talk to them. He gave them the full silent treatment. They didn't notice, they had all been preoccupied with the festival.

However, Nagisa had told himself that he wouldn't speak to them. He wouldn't give them the time of day. He wouldn't just forgive them, brush it under the carpet as they had for all the jokes and pranks they pulled on him. He was putting his foot down, even if they wouldn't notice. 

The jokes never stopped. There were pokes and prods about what had happened yesterday from his classmates, things like Nagisa "working his womanly charms to save the culture festival" were said. 

There was laughter.

That constant. 

Mortifying. 

Laughter.

That sickening feeling in his stomach had become a constant, that imminent feeling of panic resting on him. He had to play it off.

At the end of the day, like a cherry on the world's worst cake, his mother had come to visit.

For the very last time, Nagisa had gotten his hopes up. Maybe she was going to apologize for her years of torment. His tainted body image. The physical and mental abuse. Her pushing him so far that he had thought he would have to sever ties with her once he was an adult. What she had put him through was the reason he felt this way now. Her abuse was the reason his looks were a joke to everyone, with or without context.

The apology never came.

Instead, she asked him to stay with her until he became an adult. She asked him not to leave her. 

Nagisa, exhausted and stressed, had said yes.

It was his biggest regret.

This was it, the chance to tell her off. To tell her just how haunting her years of torment had been. How he can't look in a mirror without feeling sick. How his looks are now a running gag in his class. How his long hair leaves him paranoid. How his height angers him.

He just couldn't. He didn't have it in him to fight. Even if it was the two of them at the table, he knew the whole class was watching him. He knew he was expected to patch things up with his mother as if nothing had happened. Like it was all in the past. Like it doesn't affect the present and future at all.

He didn't have the energy to fight, and it was his biggest regret.

Not being able to fight. Not being able to stand up for yourself. The word rang in his ears. How unmanly of him.

He barely ate dinner that night, telling his mom that he had been eating a lot of the samples from the culture fest. He hadn't had any.

He felt listless in bed that night. Tomorrow would just be a normal school day. Finals were coming up. The events of the culture festival would slowly be forgotten.

Nagisa can't forget.

He can't forget the way it felt. He can't forget the burn in his stomach. He can't forget his throat closing up. He can't forget forcing back his tears. He can't forget the assault. He can't forget the laughter.

Because it's hilarious.

Isn't it?

The next day, Nagisa didn't talk to anyone.

He had started to completely avoid being around Karma and Nakamura. They made him feel sick, acting as though everything was the same as always, cracking the same old jokes as if nothing had happened. Everything's always perfect in Karma and Nakamuraville. No apologies.

Even if they had apologized, would it mean anything? How long would it take for the next joke to happen, the next dress to be forced into?

Their words become empty to Nagisa. Nothing means anything, everything is always a joke. Everything is always in good fun. If you take it to heart it's your own fault.

And throwing a tantrum about it would be so unmanly, wouldn't it?

Nagisa had left during lunch when Karma joined the group as usual. He'd eaten elsewhere, alone. If no one sees him, no one can mock the way he looks.

No one asked about him.

After school, Karasuma began his training session with everyone, as usual.

Nagisa ditched that day.

Korosensei had been off somewhere, taking a few kids with him for a special study session across the globe. Nagisa knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

He had found himself deep in the forest. Tall trees loomed over him and dirt clung to his shoes. It was a cold November, but Nagisa hadn't brought his jacket.

He was angry. He knew he was. It bubbled within him, scorching his insides. His face felt hot, he felt clammy and sweaty. He was furious.

Karma had known him for so long, they'd been friends for so long. So why is Nagisa a fool for believing that Karma would even try to preserve that friendship?

Of course the jokes would be more important. Of course they would be. They're hilarious. Everyone thinks it's funny, don't they?

Karma and Nagisa are friends, so of course, that means Nagisa is okay with it, right?

A loud thump could be heard.

Nagisa slammed his fist into the bark of a nearby tree, the rough surface nagging at his skin. His teeth were gritted, his hollow stare plastered on the ground.

He felt something. Physically. He felt the pain of punching the bark, and when he brought his knuckles to his face he noticed the scratches the impact had caused.

It hurt. It stung. But it was something.

Words rang in Nagisa's head.

A real man wouldn't be hurt.

Only igniting his fury more, only agonizing him more, he punched the tree again. Harder this time, the scratched skin breaking open, bits of his flesh bare and dirty.

The trees loomed over him, reaching high into the sky, they were tall. They stretched up so high, and he was so small, so inadequate.

That's not manly at all.

He felt his flesh sink into the tree once more, blood soaking his hands and dripping off his fingertips.

He did it again. And again. And again. And again.

The tree became tainted with his blood, the bark cracking open and falling, the wooden inside of the tree revealing itself, tougher than its bark outside had ever been.

Tough on the outside and on the inside. How manly of it.

Nagisa felt himself continue to punch the tree, blood smearing over it. He felt his voice come out, he was screaming.

His hands hurt so bad, he felt like he was crumbling.

The tree didn't waiver, it merely loomed over him in all its height.

Is that what being manly is?

Nagisa felt like he wasn't breathing anymore. He breathed in and out, in and out, but it felt like none of the air had filled his lungs. It felt like nothing could touch him anymore.

His own words shredded through the doubtful ones.

"What does being manly mean anyways? Why can't I just be myself?"

He asked, his own tiny voice reaching out. The voices didn't answer him, for no one would.

The sun was starting to set. Nagisa rescued his bag from its abandoned spot on the ground and slowly began to walk home, feeling worse than before. He looked down at his knuckles, his physical wounds.

He couldn't begin to imagine what his wounds were like on the inside. What that would look like, had they been physical.

He found his way back to the main path, the drops of blood that lingered on his fists drying, no longer continuing their trail.

It had gotten dark, and he was about to start walking over the floodplain, when a familiar voice cut through the silence. A voice he didn't want to hear.

"Hey Nagisa, wait up!"

He kept walking.

Karma Akabane sped up to meet him, walking next to him as he trudged over the dark path. Nagisa fixed his gaze forward, not letting his eyes dwell over to look at Karma. He already knew what he would see.

A tall, well-built boy, with short hair and a sharp merciless look in his eyes. Someone 'manly'. Cause between the two of them, that's always what Karma has been. The 'manly' one. Nagisa hated it.

It was that mental image that made Nagisa's pace speed up. Of course, Karma's long legs had no issue matching it, matter of fact, this might just be his usual pace.

Karma had no issue starting small talk, even if Nagisa didn't respond.

"I never thought I'd see the day you skipped Nagisa, I didn't think you had it in you, little guy!"

It loomed inside him.

Karma looked over, waiting for a response from Nagisa, it never came.

"The culture fest sure was a hit, wasn't it? Glad I was able to take so many commemorative photos."

It was beginning to bubble up.

He snickered, the ever-present smirk on his face, waiting for a reaction, once again.

Karma scanned Nagisa for a reaction, anything from his end that could count as a win for Karma. His eyes drifted away from the boy’s face, and down to his hand, seeing the damage. His eyes fixated on the exposed skin, the dried blood, and the dirt it was covered in.

"Nagisa? Jesus, what happened to your hand? Are you even listening to me?"

It was burning, more and more.

Karma was taking big steps to match Nagisa's pace, who continued to walk down the path, blank stare facing forward.

"Come on, Nagisa. This can't just be about the dress thing if you're THIS upset—"

It exploded.

Nagisa spun on his heel and punched Karma square in the face. The sudden contact knocked Karma over, Nagisa following to punch Karma again.

It took Karma by surprise. He had been in many fights before, ones Nagisa had witnessed himself, though he stood on the sideline.

What surprised him the most, however, is the way Nagisa was fighting.

It wasn't an assassination. It wasn't to win. It was to hurt. Nagisa wanted to hurt Karma. He could see it in his eyes as he frantically started punching at every spot he could possibly reach.

For the first time in a few days, Karma heard Nagisa's voice again. It was shrill. It was choked. It was strained.

And yet, the words spat from it were laced with venom.

"I hate you."

Hearing those words shocked Karma. Nagisa never seemed like the type to use those words, and he wasn't the type to start a fight either, especially not with Karma.

Nagisa kept repeating those words, his voice getting louder each time, the frustration heard in his voice.

Karma grabbed his wrists, Nagisa's bawled fists dangling above his face, trying to make contact with it.

"Nagisa! What the hell are you doing-"

Karma tried, Nagisa's face towering over him, his eyes full of hatred. It reminded Karma of the face he had pulled at Takaoka that night on the helicopter pad. That intent to hurt. That intent to kill. That bloodlust. That hatred.

"I hate you more than anything."

The words were laced with poison, Karma felt sick from hearing them, especially coming from Nagisa's mouth. He wondered if tonight was the first time he'd ever heard Nagisa say such a thing. He'd always seemed so complacent with everything, right?

Nagisa opened his fists, his fingers stretching out, trying desperately to scratch at Karma. Karma pushed him off and got up to his feet, ready to shut down what Nagisa was throwing at him.

Nagisa had fallen back and found his bag, roughly grabbing its straps and using it to swing at Karma, Karma quickly blocking, but still being hit. The bag burst open, it's contents pouring out. Notebooks, pencils, pens, anti-sensei knives, anti-sensei guns and their ammunition, even the little notebook he used to keep tabs on Korosensei's weaknesses. It was all scattered on the ground, it didn't matter anymore.

On instinct, Karma started punching back. He wasn't about to be beaten up by someone like Nagisa, someone who had always stood behind him, hidden.

Nagisa couldn't feel anything anymore. Karma had punched him square in his nose and he couldn't feel it. The wounds on his knuckles were opening up again, and he couldn't feel a thing. He had gone completely numb. He didn't want to do anything anymore, he just wanted to hurt. He wanted to hurt Karma. If there was no way for Karma to understand how he hurt Nagisa on the inside, he'll hurt him on the outside.

Nagisa was fighting blindly, swinging where he could, kicking and pulling where he could. His fighting style didn't resemble an assassination, nor the self-defense they'd been learning since their fight with the reaper. It was pure instinct. It was pure rage.

Karma had just landed a hit on Nagisa's jaw when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?"

Karasuma asked, harshly coming in between them, holding onto both of their arms.

Karma was in shock, still shaken up from the initial attack and the fact that Nagisa had gotten Karma to actually hit back.

Karasuma looked from one boy to the other, and when he looked at Karma, his eyes seemed to ask why Karma would have started it. Between the two of them, Karma would be the one to start a fight. Nagisa wouldn't start a fight, everyone knows that. That's what makes him such a skilled assassin.

Nagisa wiggled himself loose from Karasuma's grip, running off, leaving all of his things behind.

Karasuma sighed, letting go of Karma as well.

"Listen, I'll go return these things to Nagisa's house, and tomorrow the two of you will need to settle this in a civilized manner. I don't ever want to see you two fighting out in public like this. What if someone saw you?"

He scolded, Karma feeling indifferent to it all, as he hadn't even started the fight for once. Or had he?

Karma and Karasuma silently gathered Nagisa's things and put them back in his bag. The belongings all felt very 'Nagisa'. Frail and complacent. His handwriting was small and shaky in some parts, his pencils were usually neatly in their case. Spare hair-ties, small notes, anti-sensei weapons ready for use. None of these items felt like they belonged to someone who would attack a person the way he had.

Karma realized it then.

That it was his fault. He had pushed Nagisa completely over the edge. This was his doing. Tomorrow he'd have to abandon his pride and apologize to him and he didn't want to. Why did Karasuma have to show up? Now the teachers are involved in this, and now the whole class will be involved in this. That can't be what Karma or Nagisa would want. Some big emotional apology, that's so uncool. That's so not manly.

Nagisa was running as fast as he could, his choked breathing was getting heavier and heavier, his throat felt like it was completely closing up.

His mother sat at the dinner table, awkwardly waiting for him. She was trying to 'do better' so she wasn't going to nag him for being late like she usually would. Though she had thought once or twice about calling him to ask where he was.

Nagisa stormed in and didn't say a word to her. He kicked his shoes off and stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him.

His mom didn't know how to react. She was trying to not be strict and to 'let go' of him, but her son just stormed into the house, covered in blood, with no explanation. She tried to open his door, but it seemed he'd propped his chair up against it, making the handle impossible to use. She knocked a few times, asking what happened, but she got no response. She had to take a few deep breaths, and she ended up going back to the dining table, hoping he'd come out on his own.

His room was cold and dark. He was still trying to catch his breath, and he couldn't tell if the dripping sensation on his face was blood, sweat, or tears. He could barely keep on his feet.

I don't want to be seen anymore.

I don't want anyone to see me anymore.

In the darkness of my room, no one can see me.

I don't have to see me.

I don't want to be me anymore.

I'm tired.

I'm so, so tired.

—

Later that night, his mom had opened the door to see his teacher standing there with a bag of his belongings. When she told him that the two hadn't spoken, and Nagisa had locked himself in his room, Karasuma had forced the door of his room open, after his knocking harbored no response.

The room was completely dark, and when he turned on a light it seemed as if it was empty, Nagisa nowhere to be found. After a moment of searching, they found him hiding under his bed, unconscious.

Nagisa Shiota was checked into a hospital that night with a high fever and symptoms of a panic attack.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Thank you for reading this fic all the way through! This is the end, and I won't be continuing this. I wrote this to bring attention to a very pressing issue in the assassination classroom fandom, especially within karmagisa shippers. I think it's unfair to Nagisa and those who relate to his gender struggle, for people to excuse Karma for making Nagisa crossdress on multiple occasions. Even worse, is people using these actions as a 'selling point' for karmagisa, and saying it's a positive thing in their relationship. How many pieces of fan art? How much fanfiction? I've never seen anyone touch on this matter before, so I brought it upon myself to do so, with what little following I have. If you truly care about Nagisa and his relationship with Karma, you'll understand the way that Karma forcing him into situations that trigger past trauma for him is destructive to their relationship.
> 
> Thank you for reading,
> 
> Fairy.


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